


Somewhere Only We Know

by madsmurf



Series: Erik Lehnsherr's Playlist For Charles Xavier [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Elplaylistforcx, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-26
Updated: 2011-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsmurf/pseuds/madsmurf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he listens he hopes that he can start again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninemoons42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/gifts).



> Fic inspired by PJ's [Erik Lehnsherr Playlist](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/post/13249326508/erik-lehnsherrs-playlist) and the song [Somewhere Only We Know by Keane](http://www.youtube.com/?v=Oextk-If8HQ)

It's quiet. There is only the gentle hum of metal around him. No yelling. No biting remarks between Raven and Emma. There was absolute silence.

It needs to break. He can't stand the silence. [ _Damp floors. Itchy rags. Fear pulsing through his veins_ ]. He needs noise, something to fill the empty air. He walks in and out of the rooms searching for it, slightly comforted by the echoes of his footsteps but it isn't enough.

He finds it hidden away in the corner of the attic, next to the worn chessboard. The cd player that had amused them all for a few spare weeks while waiting for the x-men's next move. Just like a game of carefully constructed chess. [ _Westchester. Nights filled with wine and discussion of the future. False hopes._ ] He takes the cd player away from its spot and back to his room. Where he locks the door and sets the cd player up, wiping the dust away with aged hands and places his chosen cd within its compartment.

He sits cross legged on his bed as he waits for the music to fill the air. It is then, just as he music begins, that he takes hold of his helmet and removes it slowly. Once it is removed he places it on his bedside table, feeling uncertain without it's constant weight upon his head. Having not taken it off since Cuba. [ _Erik! No! Please! Erik! There will be no turning back!_ ] He does not let this bother him for long as he let's the music wash over him, like a comfortable blanket.

 _I felt the earth beneath my feet / sat next to the river and it made me feel complete_

He remembers a time when they played chess in front of the statue of Abraham Lincoln. He had been right. Even though at the time a small part of him didn't want to be, if for Charles' sake. [ _Identification, that's how it starts. And ends with being rounded up, experimented on and eliminated_ ]. It is then he realises that he doesn't have his helmet on. Having forgotten about it for a moment, and it doesn't worry him as much as it should. Part of him, most of him, wants Charles to hear. Even if it is for just a short while.

He relaxes, stretching his legs so that now he lies down on his back staring up at the ceiling. Then with all his mental focus and strength he thinks of the lyrics as they play.

 _I need somewhere to begin / And if you have a minute why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know_

He feels nothing, not even a quick nudge, to indicate that Charles had heard and that hurts more then he could ever realise. [ _My friend, I'm sorry, but we do not_ ]. The tears are there but he does nothing to remove them or stop them. Perhaps this was a bad idea. He had only wanted to get rid of the silence. Not to discover that he had lost his only friend [ _Erik you're not alone. You're not alone_ ]. He wants to crush the cd player, but he doesn't and the music continues to play, as though on a constant loop.

He stays still and listens, and tries with all his might to ignore the pain in his chest [ _she didn't do this Erik, you did_ ].

The song nears to an end when he feels it. A light tug, then warmth that spreads to his toes.

'I think Grand Central Station would be a wonderful place to start, my friend'


End file.
